Pay It Forward – Lessons Learned from a Boston Marathon Runner
It was a cool summer morning in Park City, Utah. But I knew it wouldn’t be long before heat waves would rise up from the pavement like slow-moving tentacles poisoned with dehydration and fatigue that could slow even the most experienced runners. And it made me nervous.
Leaving the cool and comfortable temperatures of the Pacific Northwest to run my first marathon in the desert seemed like a good idea when I registered for the race a few months earlier. But now that I was near the starting line mingling with seasoned marathon runners, I was worried about how things would turn out.
Don’t Let Self-Doubt Stop You From Getting Started
Did I do enough training to go the distance? How much water should I drink during the race? Would the heat and mountain elevation become my worst enemy late in the race? What if I can’t finish and have to drop out? I was full of self-doubt and nervous excitement.
It didn’t help that I somehow forgot to pack running socks before boarding the plane in Portland, and had no choice but to wear a pair of my dad’s black dress socks. I didn’t know anyone at the starting line, and I really didn’t know anyone who had run a marathon before.
Until now, my closest connection to long-distance running was the story my parents told me about a guy they knew who ran a marathon. And it wasn’t exactly motivational. In their account, their friend had to crawl his way to the finish line of a marathon on bloody knees trailed by race officials threatening to pull him from the race.
All the anxiety of being a first-time marathoner and the typical race-day jitters was maddening. I just wanted to get on with the race and see if I could finish. I finally decided that maybe some of the more experienced marathon runners might have some good advice for a newbie before the race director fired the starting gun.
Model Healthy Behaviors of Others
That’s when I saw the guy wearing a brightly colored jacket from the Boston Marathon, the most storied 26.2-mile marathon in the world. The guy was lean and fit and seemed completely at ease with the idea of running a mountain marathon that would take a couple hours to finish. I was in awe, and felt a little like a teenage groupie when I tapped him on the shoulder.
“What was the Boston Marathon like?” I asked.
He talked about the race, running from Hopkinton to downtown Boston, the course lined with crowds of people, and made it seem like he practically floated to the finish line ready for another marathon. We talked briefly about my first-time jitters and he said something I’ll never forget:
“You got this. Take it easy when the race starts, drink some water at the aid stations, and keep moving, even if you have to walk, and you’ll make it.”
Unfortunately, I was too excited for those words of wisdom to sink in. When the race started, I charged ahead to the front of the pack. I stayed with the leaders for the first six miles and blew through those early aid stations without drinking anything. Then the desert started heating up, I kept running, but could tell I ran the first leg of the race much faster than I should have.
By the time I reached the 20-mile mark, known as “the wall,” I was spent. I sat down in a chair at an aid station and figured my first marathon would be a failure. I wasn’t sure what to do. Maybe there was some secret serum I could drink, or some combination of stretches that could help loosen my tight hamstrings and heavy quads. I felt like throwing up, and was about to wave my white flag to surrender when I heard a familiar voice.
A Helping Hand Can Make a Difference
“Hey man, you can’t just sit there.” It was the Boston Marathon guy. He was smiling and looked just as fresh and full of energy at the 20-mile mark as he did before the race even started. “You can do this. It’s just an easy 10K to the finish line. Follow me and I’ll get you there.”
I tried to convince him that I was too exhausted to continue, but he wouldn’t accept any of my excuses. So I got up out of the chair and started shuffling along. For the next six miles, Boston Marathon guy maintained a slow and steady pace, just fast enough to force me to keep on running. He asked me questions about my job, school, my family, my interest in running. And every time I moaned about some ache or pain, he offered another dose of encouragement. Then when the finish line was in sight, he said goodbye, ran ahead of me and disappeared into the crowd of finishers.
It’s been almost 20 years since I ran my first marathon. And I’ve never forgotten the generosity of Boston Marathon guy. He could have easily left me behind and cruised his way to the finish line, but instead he slowed his pace and pushed me to complete my goal. Since then, I’ve completed more than 30 marathons, ran thousands of miles, and recently finished my second 100-mile ultra-marathon.
Be an Example of Health and Wellness to Others
I don’t know what ever happened to Boston Marathon guy, so I can’t give him the thanks he deserves. But I’m sure he would tell me to pay it forward by helping other runners, providing encouragement, sharing a few of the lessons I’ve learned about running and racing over the years, and pointing the way to the finish line.
And even if you’re not a runner, his advice still makes sense in the face of life’s many challenges. There’s no benefit to sitting around feeling sorry for yourself or wishing things would change without taking any action when the way seems hard. Get up, start moving, take a step forward and then another. You got this. Healthy habits start by taking the first step.
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